


I Could Never Make Him Love Me

by lucy_in_the_sky



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst With A Happy End, F/M, Happy Ending, M/M, POV First Person, Present Tense, Trying something new, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 14:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13390200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_in_the_sky/pseuds/lucy_in_the_sky
Summary: Timmy is back in LA staying with Armie during one of the last legs of awards season. With the help of a little bit of wine and a lot of pent up feelings, he ends up confessing everything to Armie.





	I Could Never Make Him Love Me

I can't take this any longer.

I'm back in LA, visiting with the Hammers for one of the last legs of awards season. Everyday, I wake up in Armie's house, speak to Armie's wife, eat breakfast with Armie's children, all while secretly worshipping Armie.

And I can't take this any longer.

We had stayed friends since shooting The Movie. He always invited me to stay in his house when I was in town, never giving me an end date for my stay, simply telling me I could leave whenever I wanted. The problem was I never wanted to leave. I would always force myself to Uber to the airport to fly back home, New York no longer my all time favorite destination now that I've stayed with Armie.

To him, I was a younger brother or perhaps even a close friend. I knew he cherished our relationship, that he felt something really special that summer in Italy. I never doubted that I meant something to him, not at all, but I knew I didn't mean everything to him.

But he was my fucking world.

I can't pinpoint an exact moment where this infatuation with Armie Hammer began.

Perhaps it was when we started filming The Movie and we were forced to become one in the same because of the love our characters shared.

Maybe it was when I came home from shooting and was no longer an arms distance away from his body at all times and I realized the extent to which I needed him.

It very well could have been the day I first saw him, bursting through the door, interrupting my piano lesson with his dazzling smile and boisterous laugh, greeting me with open arms and an open mind.

Never mind when it happened, I just know that it did.

And now I was left to pay for my feelings, watching him with Liz and Harper and Ford, living his paternal life as a husband and father, entirely off limits.

At first, I thought it was a crush. I thought that maybe it was me blurring the lines between Elio and myself, forgetting that I wasn't a seventeen year old falling in love with a handsome blonde haired, blue eyed man. I figured that after filming ended, my life would return to normal. I wouldn't be obsessed with his hands or smile or lips or chest or fingers or laugh or

But then I had gone home and my life refused to return to how it was before I stepped on the plane that took me across the ocean all those weeks ago.

Italy changed me. I can't deny that fact. I was a new person since that fateful summer filled with heat and desire and heartache and sun and _Armie_.

Going back home only solidified my concerns that I had fallen head over heels for my co-star.

And, just to add, I now understand why they call it _falling_ in love. Because it wasn't graceful or beautiful or poetic, it was clumsy and painful and awkward. I had fallen hard for Armie, and now I was left to deal with the consequences. The bruises and scraped knees and the embarrassment of having to pick yourself up off the ground while the whole world watches. (Okay, not the whole world, but more often than not, that's what it felt like.)

Up until now, I have gotten by on one nights stands and self deprecating jokes that only made people cringe and feel sorry for me. For all these awards I was receiving, I was shit at masking my adoration for Armie.

At every public event, I have to tone myself down, reign my feelings in before they are unleashed to the world. I can't let everyone know how obsessed I am with him. I call him my brother and my mentor, and he is, but he's also the love of my life. He is my best friend and _l'amour de ma vie_. And I can't seem to separate the two from each other.

I think he knows. I think he's just too kind to say anything.

I can feel him staring at me as I play dolls with Harper or stay up late with him and Elizabeth, drinking too much wine and joking with her like she was an old friend of mine. He's always watching me like a hawk, waiting to see me fuck up, I suppose. Like one wrong move and he'll finally grow the pair he needs to say "that's enough, kid, it's time to leave."

I was here for three more days. Three more days and two more nights. Three more days and two more nights and then I was on a plane going back home, a bittersweet travel that will take me away from this bubble of uncomfortable timidity but also from Armie. And I wasn't sure I was ready to say goodbye just yet.

Tomorrow. One more long night filled with red carpets and flashing lights and interviewers who think they can talk to you like they know you personally and Armie's tight grip leaving purple marks underneath my suit jacket.

I had tonight then tomorrow night then one last night and then I was gone. I could do this.

Although, I do admit that it's a little sad that I need all this pep talk just to get through three days of my life.

It was almost midnight, both the kids were fast asleep, Armie tucked them in while Elizabeth and I talked in the open concept kitchen.

Armie had returned to the two of us and opened a bottle of red, pouring glasses for all three of us as he hopped up onto the counter like a child and interjected in mine and Elizabeth's conversation.

I didn't miss the way she smiled fondly at his antics, her eyes filled with love for the man she chose to spend the rest of her life with.

We were still chatting and drinking wine, but the conversation had moved to the living room by the second or third glass.

I watch Armie as he shares a story of something cute Ford did a couple weeks ago, pretending to pay attention while I really calculate how fucked I would be if I leaned forward and kissed him square on the mouth.

Probably really fucked. I don't know why I would even wonder.

I guess it's something about nighttime. Something comes alive during the night. Something that's not quite there but not quite not there during the day and all of a sudden, Armie's skin and lips and eyes seem positively irresistible. Like he has his own gravitational pull that has attached itself to me and refuses to let me be until I'm sitting flush against his body, hands in his hair and lips caressing his neck. This pull exists during the day of course, but it's magnified during the night. Like the darkness in the sky covers my sins and the stars seem to cheer me on, begging me to give in to his gravity.

Which is why I need to not be here, three feet away from Armie, sitting on his luxurious couch, chatting it up with him and Liz.

I flush, embarrassed to be thinking about jumping a married man _right next to_ his wife.

I stand up on slightly wobbly legs and excuse myself, saying that I should catch some sleep before the big day tomorrow or something. Cause I'm not really thinking about what words are coming out of my mouth, I'm staring at Armie trying to decipher if that's a look painted with disappointment or relief at my exit.

The Hammer's smile politely and Elizabeth takes my half empty glass of wine (the fourth of the night) and then I'm sitting alone on the queen sized bed in the guest bedroom or "Timmy's Room" as Harper apparently calls it, even when I'm not staying here.

I release a huge breath of air I didn't know I was holding. Being in such close proximity to the man of my dreams without being able to touch him kills me a bit more every day.

I quickly change into sweats and a tee shirt, no longer trying to impress anyone with tailored shirts and tight fitting jeans.

With an unpleasant disappointment with an unknown origin, I slide into bed, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands and praying that sleep comes soon.

I don't really wanna be left alone with my thoughts right now because all of them have to do with him. With Armie. Half of them are telling me to go find him and kiss the mother fucking daylight out of him and the other half of them are chiding me for being naive and a child, secretly pining over someone I can never have.

So that's not really fun.

I toss and turn around in the bed, still getting used to having all this space to myself even though this is my third night at the Hammer Household.

Sleep is right there, I can almost feel it, but it seems like every time I reach out to touch it and find reprieve from my longing of what I can't have, it backs away from my outstretched arm and leaves me alone and utterly awake.

I hear a floorboard creak followed by the shuffling of slipper clad feet just outside my bedroom.

Armie sticks his head in the door, it's too dark to see his face but I can hear the concern in his voice.

"Timmy?"

I make a grunting sound to show him that I'm awake and that I heard him.

He hesitates by the door.

"You okay?" He asks while taking a step closer to where I am sprawled across the bed.

"Yeah," I answer, trying to assure him that I'm fine but it comes out like a question.

Armie finally enters the room all the way, closing the door until just a sliver of light peeks out from the hallway. He comes to sit on the side of the bed, right next to my hip. I can see his face now, see the eyes I fell so hard for filled with worry.

I sit up on my elbows.

"Armie, I'm fine. Why are you even asking?"

He looks away for a second then turns his face back to me.

The worry was almost gone from his eyes. Almost.

"You've just seemed kinda off since you got here,"

I snorted. I swear I didn't mean to but it was just so funny in a totally not funny way. He couldn't possibly know how off I've felt.

" _Armie_ ," I mean to continue, to tell him not to worry about me but I think I've said way too much with one stupid word.

By the look in his eyes, he understood everything I wasn't trying to convey, but that I felt underneath this layer of self control and insecurity.

His eyes turn sharp and the air in the room grows colder.

"Timmy," he starts with a chastising tone.

I gulp and try to backtrack but he'd obviously read between the lines and put two into together and I'm fucked.

"Timmy," he repeats, "you know I'm married, and you know I'm in love with Liz,"

I feel tears pricking my eyes. This was not how tonight was supposed to go.

Again, I try to take back the hidden truth in my words. Word. Whatever.

He only cuts me off and continues his painfully awkward speech about loving me like a brother and how I needed to get over him for the sake of the both of us yata yata yata.

And all of a sudden I'm crying and hyperventilating and begging him to give me another chance, that I will be better at hiding my love for him and please don't kick me out please I need you you can't understand how much I need you please, Armie, I

I feel a hand gripping my shoulder.

I open my eyes and there's Armie looking scared and worried and wait, where am I?

I quickly sit up and start panting, frantically wiping the tears from my face. I think I can hear Armie calling my name, trying to get my attention.

Im so confused.

"Armie?" I call out weakly, looking at him for guidance like I always do.

Fuck, I sound so broken.

"Timmy, hey, Timmy, it was just a dream, you're okay,"

A dream?

"A dream?"

His blue eyes were kind and concerned and not piercing and stony like they had been several moments ago.

Oh god, it was just a dream.

Tears of relief flood my already wet eyes and start to fall down my cheeks.

Armie reaches for me, brushing away the wet tracks on my face with a soft caress of his hand.

He moves to sit on the bed, I can feel where the mattress dips this time.

_God, it was just a dream, you're fine._

I take a couple deep breaths but I still can't shake the horrible feeling that all too real dream has left me with.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Armie prompts with nothing but support in his soft voice.

I shut my eyes and wrap my arms around my skinny frame, trying to physically hold myself together at his words.

This man. This man will be the end of me.

He was so stony and disapproving and, quite honestly, terrifying in my dream, but here he is in al his loving and gentle glory.

He runs circles into my back and scoots closer to me, pulling me on top of his lap, my head leaning against his back.

His arms move to wrap around my own, gently pulling me away from myself as he whispers into my ear conformation of his _thereness_.

I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I've got you. You're okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm here. I'm here.

And I can lean back into his chest and physically feel how _there_ he is.

I take a shaky breath and turn around in his arms after a few more seconds of relishing in our closeness.

He's sitting crisscross against the headboard and I position myself to mirror him, keeping my hand wrapped around my chest.

I finally gain the courage to look back into his eyes.

He smiles.

"Hi,"

I'm relieved to still see no trace of the dream version of Armie's eyes.

"Hi," I respond weakly.

We sit in silence that's not quite uncomfortable but not too pressing.

I search for the words to explain my actions.

What's the best way to say "hey, so, I had a dream where you found out that I'm in love with you and then you got mad at me and I ruined everything so sorry for freaking out but I can't handle losing you,"?

I don't even think he knows I'm bi.

I suck in another unsteady breath.

I can feel him staring at me, eyes soft and face welcoming and I know that I can tell him anything.

But not this.

"It's stupid,"

He scoffs. I feel his arms reach for mine, his hands gripping my own, pulling them away from my chest, obviously understanding I was trying to put up physical barriers as well as emotion ones.

Why can't things be like they were in Crema where we could tell each other everything?

"I feel the same way, T, but you still can tell me things, I'm always gonna be here for you,"

I look up, startled.

I said that out loud?

"Look, if you got this upset, it's obviously not nothing and not stupid and I want to help you, but if you don't wanna talk to me, I'm not gonna force you,"

I feel tears pooling in my eyes.

Why is he so perfect?

"You mean so much to me, Timmy. Liz and I both love you to bits, you know that right?"

Liz. Right. Elizabeth.

I'd almost forgotten about Armie's beautiful and smart and loving and amazing wife.

I nod. I know he loves me, but not the way I love him.

"Look, Timmy,"

God, this was starting to sound just like my dream.

He takes a breath and tries to continue whatever it was he was gonna say.

I can't have a repeat of that awful dream.

"Timmy-"

"I love you!" I frantically interrupt.

He shuts his mouth and gives me a quizzical look.

"No, like, ugh, I _love_ you, Armie,"

My voice hitches and I can feel sobs coming on.

Instead of suppressing them and saving the last ounce of dignity I have left, I let go.

My body begins to wrack with the angry sobs that pour out of me, like something animal inside being let out for the first time.

I was too fucking scared to let Armie see just how much I cared about him, but here I was, just having expressed my feelings.

I feel his arms sliding around mine yet again.

I feel myself being dragged into his lap yet again.

I feel his soft words hit the skin below my ear yet again.

I'm a fucking mess.

He lets me cry for several minutes, just holding me and rocking me back and forth, never letting me try and pull away from him.

I turn in his arms and press my tear stained face against his beating heart, finding the steady thumps incredibly comforting.

Armie's hands stay wrapped protectively around my body, and he's still whispering sweet nothings into my ear. I guess these are good signs. He hasn't yelled at me yet so...

"I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, Armie, I'm really sorry," I start to mumble.

"Hey, no, no," he moves one of his hands to grip my neck just below my hairline, effectively holding my head against his chest.

"Timmy, god, Timmy, I've been waiting for you to say that forever,"

My brain freezes.

I pull away from his body and he lets me.

He lets me sit back on my heels and stare at him with probably the most awestruck look on my face.

I reach out and caress his cheek with my shaking hand.

He smiles.

So do I. His smile is contagious. 

"Really?" I ask in a small voice.

"Yes, _really_ ," he breathes.

I lean forward, closing the distance between us before he has a chance to change his mind.

He meets me halfway in a slow, languid kiss that speaks volumes.

I pull away first, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster this night has turned out to be.

My head returns to his chest, his hands return to my head.

"What about Liz?"

Armie leans down to press a steady kiss to my mop of hair.

"She knows how I feel and she accepts it. It took her a little while, but she can see how fucking crazy I am for you, how you're not gonna go away any time soon,"

I press my cheek into his chest and place a kiss on top of his heart.

"I love her so much, and I love you so much, too. It's a different type of love and she understands it,"

I think I understand it, too.

I tell him this.

He chuckles quietly.

"Good," his lips are back, this time on my cheek even though that must be an uncomfortable angle for him.

I lean back so he can kiss me again.

My hands grip his shirt, holding on to him for dear life, like he's about to disappear before my eyes.

I think he can sense how anxious I am. Just like that fateful Italian summer, he can still read me like a book, and now, he can tell I'm terrified of losing him.

He pulls away this time, removing his lips from mine but pressing his forehead against my own.

"I'm not going anywhere, T. I mean it. I love you and I wanna make this work...whatever this is,"

I nod, peck his lips, and try to convince myself that I can trust his words and that things will actually change for the better.

My eyes droop as the adrenaline rushes out of my system.

Armie scoots forward so he's lying down on my bed, pulling my compliant body on top of his.

He massages his fingers through my hair and whispers for me to fall asleep.

My body listens, slowly releasing the tension it's held since I returned to New York after a summer abroad in a small Italian town, filming a movie that would change my life.

I let my body relax against Armie's.

I know he'll be there in the morning.

And that's all I need to know.

 

 

 

.


End file.
